


Perfect

by ElwritesFanworks



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Belly Kink, Blow Jobs, Body Hair, Body Worship, Carlos hates his tummy, Cecil has weird anatomy, Cock Worship, Comfort, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Cute, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Weight Gain, body horror!Cecil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 17:10:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/942463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElwritesFanworks/pseuds/ElwritesFanworks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos put on a lot of weight in college, and never lost it. Instead, he got really self-conscious about his body, which he doesn't think Cecil will like. Cecil decides to show him just how much he DOES like it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect

* * *

When Cecil and Carlos first get together, Cecil is so happy he thinks he might faint. Knowing that his beloved scientist picked him, out of all the people he knew, to go out with, makes him grin so wide that it kind of unnerves Carlos, who has never seen a face stretch quite like that. _Still,_ Carlos says, the first time he sees Cecil unhinge his jaw and wolf down a whole cob of corn, only to have him roll out his unusually long, prehensile tongue and produce it, completely picked clean, _it's a part of you, and that makes it special._

Cecil gets a lot of those comments from Carlos, like when they make out for the first time, on a couch at Carlos's house, and the scientist slides his hands under Cecil's shirt and finds his belly split by a large, toothed, salivating mouth that sucks on his fingers and hands. He pushes the shirt out of the way and traces his fingers along the lower gum line, making the radio host squirm, and says 'that's awesome, Cecil. That's really, really cool.'

Cecil is so happy, to be told that Carlos likes his body, that one day, he decides to do the same. It happens on their first date after almost two weeks of not seeing each other - work has a tendency to get in the way, and then all the doors on Carlos's house disappeared overnight and they had to postpone their meetings until they reappeared, still structurally the same, though now painted green with hot pink polka dots.

Cecil ghosts his fingers along the hem of Carlos's shirt and is surprised when Carlos pushes him away, half-hearted and still flushed, his lips swollen and dewy from kissing.

"I... uh... can I keep my shirt on?" he asks. Cecil shrugs, though his disappointment shows in his face. He's only once gotten Carlos's top off, and it was with the lights out, and he's dying to see him.

"If you really don't want to take it off, then don't," he says. Carlos sighs and tugs the shirt down a little.

"It's just... I'm not very... I'm not-"

"Not what?"

Cecil is genuinely baffled. Carlos is everything. He is the most wonderful, intelligent person Cecil has ever met (albeit still oddly backwards about some obvious things that everyone ought to understand, like toast or writing utensils.) He isn't lacking in any sense of the word - what could he 'not' be?

Not interested? suggests a malicious little voice in the back of Cecil's head, and the thought, much as he hates to even consider it, nearly brings tears to his big, purple eyes.

"Whoa, whoa, Cecil, what's wrong?"

Carlos abandons his shirt and sits up a little, running the pad of his thumb gently over Cecil's cheekbone.

"Y-you're not interested," Cecil answers, trying to keep his voice steady. "In me."

"No! You thought - not at all. Hey, hey. Come here. I really like you, Cecil. Believe me, I do  - more than anyone I've ever... you're my favorite person."

Carlos kisses Cecil on the forehead, the tip of his nose, the chin, the corner of his mouth, until Cecil smiles at him and laughs sheepishly.

"What, then?" he asks.

"It's nothing wrong with you," Carlos says firmly. "It's me. I'm... I don't know how to say this."

Cecil stares at him blankly. He clears his throat and waves his hand vaguely in the air as he responds:

"I'm not... I'm not all that good looking, Cecil."

Cecil is stunned for a moment, and then he breaks into a fit of giggles.

"Oh, you had me worried! That was a good one, Carlos," he grins, but stops when he realizes Carlos isn't smiling.

"Look, I am... more than flattered, by the way you go on about how I look, but I'm really not anything special. Really. I just worry that you have this expectation that I'm -"

"Not perfect?" Cecil supplies and Carlos nods, his dark eyes downcast beneath a curtain of thick lashes. Cecil shakes his head.

"I don't believe it. Carlos, I am a good judge of character, and if I say that you're the handsomest person I've ever met in my life, then I mean it!"

He says it so earnestly that Carlos's heart breaks a little and he wishes he could set his worries aside and just make out with his boyfriend some more, like a normal person.

"Please, let me see you," Cecil murmurs against his mouth and kisses him softly before he can respond. When they break apart for air, Carlos looks at him helplessly.

"Look, I didn't even shave today - you don't want to see -"

"You never shave," Cecil says, confused and Carlos shakes his head.

"Not my... look. I know you like me to keep the beard stubble, so I keep the stubble. But I'm... really hairy, okay? Like, really a lot. Not attractively. So before you see - I mean I want to... I mean -"

Cecil places one long, bony finger against Carlos's full lips and shakes his head.

"I want to see you," he repeats. "I know I'll love what you look like - no matter how you look. Please, it would... it would mean a great deal to me."

Something in the way he says it so seriously, and the way he bites his lower lip and smiles shyly, makes Carlos reach for the hem of his shirt against his better judgment.

"Fine," he mumbles. "Just don't laugh or anything."

Cecil's mouth widens into that slightly unsettling grin of his.

"Blood Scout's honor."

Carlos doesn't look at Cecil when he pulls his shirt off, electing to stare at the ceiling instead. His face is physically hot, he's blushing so hard, and he has to sit on his hands to keep from wrapping his arms around himself and shielding his body from view.

"Oh," Cecil says softly, and Carlos feels his stomach plummet into the ground because he told him - he knew this would happen - but Cecil had to push him and now -

"Carlos, you're wonderful."

What?

Carlos opens his eyes, looking for a hint of deception or false kindness in Cecil's face but the radio host is anything but dishonest. His eyes are wide and his mouth his hanging open and oh, oh wow he's actually licking his lips-?

"Cecil?"

"Huh?"

Cecil looks up, dazed and flushed, and it takes him a few seconds for his eyes to focus on the face of the scientist who's torso he was so busy ogling.

"Sorry, I just. Wow," he breathes. "You're so much better than what I was expecting."

Carlos rolls his eyes.

"Okay, that has to be platitudes. C'mon, you're embarrassing me."

"No! No, no, please don't think that!"

There's a desperate edge to Cecil's voice that surprises Carlos.

"Please, don't ever think that. Carlos, it's like... it's like someone reached inside of your mother when you were still a fetus and made sure you'd be perfect, just for me."

Admittedly, that's a pretty creepy image that Carlos could have done without, but this is Cecil, whose analogies always leave him a little freaked out, so he lets it slide, unchallenged.

"You seriously mean that?" he says instead, and can't help but chuckle when Cecil nods so hard he unhinges his jaw by accident and it flops against his throat and makes him hiccup, blush, and cover his mouth with his hand as he slides it back into place.

"Carlos, you're the most beautiful man I've ever seen," he exclaims.

Carlos nods, still a bit uncomfortable, and tries to distract Cecil with a kiss, but the radio host shakes his head and pulls back, eyes glinting with a singular purpose.

"Can I... can I show you?" he asks. Carlos agrees hesitantly, still a little turned on and kind of curious, but seriously apprehensive, too.

"Oh boy, oh wow," Cecil mumbles to himself as he stretches out on the couch so that his head is eye-level with Carlos's belly button.

"Wow, where do I even start?" he asks, more to himself than to Carlos.

"Wherever you want, I guess," Carlos mutters. He yelps when Cecil's long tongue darks out to trace a circle over his sternum.

"You have such a great chest," he articulates awkwardly as his tongue flicks over Carlos's nipple until the scientist releases a breathy moan.

"I have man-boobs," Carlos whines, and chuckles when the tongue slides over to tease the other nub. "That tickles."

"Good," Cecil smiles, his tongue returning to its normal position as he slides up Carlos's front and latches on to one of the pert buds. He sucks on it loudly, slurping, hedonistic, his eyes half-lidded and dark with arousal. He lets one hand trail down Carlos's chest but stops short of his waistband, opting instead to scratch gently through the copious curls on his chest.

"I love your chest hair," Cecil states and when Carlos shakes his head, the radio host tugs gently on it and curls it around his fingers.

"Why wouldn't I love your chest hair, when I love the hair on your head?" he inquires and Carlos shrugs.

"Okay, you got me there. So you have a hair fetish -"

"I do not!" Cecil blushes. "Not for anyone else's but yours, anyway. Stop distracting me."

"Okay, sorry. Please, continue."

"Right. Well. It's soft and yet wiry and really fun to play with and there's just so much of it! It's like a field of Carlos. I just want to dive into it and run around and gather it up and maybe make bread out of it or something. Weave it into a shawl."

"I'm not a sheep," Carlos laughs and Cecil kisses him on the cheek.

"I knooooow. I'm just saying."

"Is that it? You like me because I'm a substitute throw rug for your couch or something?"

Carlos is grinning in spite of himself, and his amused teasing brings a joyful expression to Cecil's face.

"No, I love your tummy, too!"

Carlos freezes and the smile's instantly gone from his face.

"Cecil, don't..."

He stares down at himself, at the swell of his gut, and the stretchmarks he's had since he ballooned up in grad school (too many nights of takeout and pizza as he worked late in the lab, and then, admittedly, too much chocolate when he was depressed about the state of his body.)

"I'm too fat," he sighs and pinches his stomach a little harder than necessary. Cecil pulls his hand of himself and kisses the spot.

"Carlos, you're so warm and soft and perfect. It's heartbreaking to think... do you really believe that, about yourself?"

Cecil has tears in his eyes, actual tears, and Carlos isn't sure whether to laugh or cry himself. He settles for chewing on his lower lip.

"I guess. I don't know. You should have seen me in undergrad - I was really fit back then. I played on my college's soccer team in sophomore year. I was really something."

"You're still something. You're everything."

The tears that have been threatening to fall spill over Cecil's cheeks and he wipes at them with his sleeve, sniffling.

"Sorry. Gee, I ruined the mood, huh?" he mumbles and Carlos shakes his head.

"No, it's my fault. You deserve better than this - you shouldn't have to reassure me, put up with all my old baggage."

Cecil looks at him, really looks at him, eyes so wet and deep that Carlos thinks that he couldn't possibly refuse him anything, ever. Not when he's looking like that.

Cecil reaches for Carlos's hand, laces their fingers together and brings it to his lips.

"Beautiful, perfect Carlos," he murmurs, pressing his lips to the scientist's knuckles. He pulls the hand down and Carlos lets him guide it until it's sitting over his crotch. The scientist sucks in a breath as he palms the radio host through his pants.

"Don't you see what you do to me? We haven't even gone past kissing and... I could go off just like this," Cecil whispers, beet red all the way up to the tips of his ears. Carlos's mouth goes dry and he swallows reflexively.

"Holy shit, Cecil," he breathes. "That's -"

Cecil cuts him off with a kiss that feels like comfort and cleansing and lust and love all at once, and it's like he's being wrapped up in a warm blanket and hugged close as Cecil presses closer to him and reaches down and grabs him through his jeans.

They break apart and Cecil's out of it, his hair mussed and his glasses askew, drool on his chin and lips.

"Can I -?"

"Yes!" Carlos practically yells as Cecil unzips his pants and pulls him out of his underwear. The radio host is on him in an instant, kissing and nuzzling and licking and sucking like there's no tomorrow, all the while murmuring endearments of 'beautiful' and 'perfect' and 'mine,' the last of which goes straight to Carlos's cock and almost immediately he's coming with a 'oh, sorry, gonna - oh, Cecil, Cecil, _Cecil!'_

Cecil swallows. Of course he does. Carlos wants to sing with happiness, he feels like he's going to overflow with various related feelings of awesomeness and amazement and gratitude.

Cecil pulls back and wipes his lips daintily on the end of his tie, smiling shyly.

"Wow," is all Carlos can say when he finally remembers how to talk.

"Wow," Cecil repeats, and he sounds like he's about to explode with gleeful excitement.

"That was incredible," Carlos admits. "You're incredible."

Cecil shakes his head.

"No, you are. Do you believe me?"

Carlos laughs and runs a hand through his hair.

"I guess, if you keep that up, I could be persuaded. Now, come on, you more than earned some reciprocation. Do you want my mouth, or...?"

Cecil shakes his head and gestures at his lap. It takes Carlos a minute to put together the motion and the damp patch on the front of his pants.

"Shit, Cecil, did you -"

"Uh huh."

"Just from watching -"

"From showing you. From watching you. From being allowed to do this with you. I didn't mean to, but when you said my name my brain kind of overloaded."

Cecil's so cute and genuine when he says it that Carlos forgets about his lack of a shirt for a minute and pulls Cecil into his arms. He strokes the radio host's hair until the man is reduced to practically purring with contentment.

"Hey, Cecil?" he asks and feels Cecil nod against his chest.

"You're kind of perfect too."

 

**Author's Note:**

> *changed second use of 'platitudes' to 'endearments' since i looked it up and it didn't mean what i thought it did T_T


End file.
